Chuck vs The Summer Cold
by Doc in Oz
Summary: The sequel to Sarah vs Fan Fiction. Summer colds are a pain, as team B finds out.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Chuck et al. (I do own a stuffed baa lamb called 'Barley' but that's not important right now)

**Wepdiggy** owns Sam. So before the 'cease and desist' order arrives, let's squeeze in a new one, hey?….

* * *

All the cool kids are inserting some sort of a quote, so here goes mine…

"Plagiarise, let no one else's work evade your eyes" – "Lobachevsky" by Tom Lehrer

**The Summer Cold.**

Set during Season two (the funnest season). This is a sort of sequel (or hopefully, an interlude) to 'Sarah vs The Fan Fiction.'

* * *

It really wasn't Chuck's fault. An innocent mistake. A single warning would have changed everything.

"Charles!"

"Ag... Mister Montgomery, what are you doing here in…"

"Just passing. Are you telling me that you and our young Miss Walker haven't …. consumat…"

"….it's…our situation is ….complicated"

"Surely you jest? All you had to do was turn up basically vertical and breathing." Montgomery surveyed the Buy More, as though he was looking to make sure there really wasn't a bar. The results did not please him.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Roan. And for what was possibly the worst night of my life."

"So, let me get this straight. You are an analyst?"

"With a bit of asset thrown in."

That threw Roan slightly "An asset? But that should make you the perfect bait. Agent Walker has a …tendency with her partners"

"I'm not really a partner …."

"Charles. You _are_ the forbidden fruit. I've seen the caged heat between you two. Forbidden. Fruit. Now, unless you want to spend the next year or two waiting before you have the chance to shoot the bad guy when he's got her drugged, and dangling off a bridge somewhere…."

"And with my luck the bad guy will be her ….. um, just a minute … drugged?"

"Charles, surely that is the only way our delectable young Miss Walker is going to end up dangling? You know that."

"Agent Montgomery, I think you've watched too much TV. That sounds like the episode where Sam saved Claire."

"Having fun?" the two of them jumped guiltily at the sound of her voice. Sarah silently advanced on the pair with a wry smile. She was enjoying their discomfort.

Chuck, because, well, she enjoyed teasing him. A lot. Probably way more than she should. But...

And Roan? How often can you catch out a legend like he was a school boy caught thumbing through the Victoria's Secrets lingerie ('Desire' collection) catalogue?

"S….Sarah! Hi! There you are….we were just…..discussing … TV. Did you know that ... Mister Montgomery is a fan of Sam?"

Roan's expression showed that he had no idea who the hell Chuck was talking about. But he was suave about it. He kissed her hand so lightly, he was almost inhaling her scent. "My dear. How _are_ you? How is the cavorting proceeding?"

Morgan interrupted, but not before Chuck thought Sarah was blushing – just a little bit. "Chuck, I can't stop them, man."

"What? Stop who, Morgan?"

"Jeff and Lester, who else? You didn't see the…"

"…Oh God. What?"

"They've set up a bikini car wash out in the car park" supplied Sarah in a flat tone.

"And by the use of 'bikini' I assume you are referring to the three middle aged women, who have led … forty something, difficult years. While dining at the Scottish Restaurant with some regularity. And your use of the word 'bikini' implies ... more fabric than what is ..." Roan ended with a delicate shudder.

Chuck looked at Morgan in horror "Jeff's sister gave him a discount…?" Morgan nodded. "What the hell was big Mike thinking?"

"It's for charity" added Casey as he slid past.

"If you define 'charity' as 'beer and/or hooker money' depending on how much they get" declared Chuck from his new position of face first onto the counter. After a four foot thud.

"Sorry Chuck?" asked Morgan.

Chuck straightened up "I said, ouch."

"No, no, after that"

"Casey!" Chuck spotted a large wall of green polo shirt nearby "Can't you do _something_ about the …" words failed him. Jeff and Lester had excelled themselves this time.

"Sorry, they're covered by the constitution."

Chuck looked aghast "The constitution. Of the United States. Of America. That constitution. Which amendment?"

"Well, the little kosher curry muncher can be pretty articulate when he wants to be" muttered Casey.

Chuck's forehead made another thud onto the counter, this time accompanied by a moan. Sarah rushed to his side, and inspected the damage. "Are you alright?" concern written all over her face.

Roan shared a smile with Casey. If you listened carefully, you might have heard him mutter "Vertical be damned, breathing will do it."

Chuck gazed up at Sarah, who was cradling his head. "I know it's only like ten o'clock. But I think I need to go back to bed. Maybe try getting out the other side."

"Children, if I may. Dianne asked me to pop by, and find out how you were going with her little 'project'" Roan check his cuffs were perfect. Casey took the opportunity to vanish.

"Roan. There's nothing to find. I tried a search engine I created. And it found more ….. results than there are fictions."

"Charles, a word if I may? Sorry, Sarah. Man talk. You understand."

Sarah gave her former instructor a look. A look that implied death by yogurt, if he wasn't careful. She let go of Chuck with a softer look, yet one that still implied pain and (possibly) yogurt.

"Now, Charles. These fictions."

"The TV show, Sam. It's about….."

"Yes, I've been briefed. Basically, a romantic 'chick' show, with some comedy, revealing costume and action to keep the male viewers happy. And you've been writing some fictions about the show. Along with …. Sarah?"

"There's no covert data in the fictions. The inters …. A different computer program would have brought that to my, to our attention."

"Yes, yes. May I say, though. Bravo."

"B…. What?"

"Well done Charles. Getting Sarah to indulge in normal healthy female …. urges. Why do you think "Pride and Prejudice" has been remake so many times? Ah, Mister Darcy ... Women love weepy romances. I sometimes suspect that the tear ducts are connected to their breasts."

"Roan!"

"Get her to write the most romantic, and by romantic, I mean _ro-man-tic_" waggle eyebrows "story that there is. Just make her think it was her idea." More eyebrow. "Oh, and fix that search thingy of yours. Dianne needs that report in writing before next Friday. Once Sarah's done her magnum opus, just be standing within three feet of her. It should be worth your while."

Roan failed to mention that if Chuck's written report didn't turn up, Dianne hinted that Roan might find himself assigned to the DVD department of the Burbank Buy More. In a green shirt. Green? The worst possible color for him. _And_ he suspected it was polyester too.

Chuck went to the front door to survey the damage. The car wash was quiet for some unknown reason. So Jefster were performing to try and attract attention. That may have been one reason it was quiet. Jeff's sister was applying soapy water to the belly of another woman (or the other way 'round – honestly, Chuck didn't care) was probably the main reason.

"My eyes! My eyes!" cried Chuck as he stumbled back inside the store, blinking furiously.

"Man up, Bartowski"

It was interesting to note that Casey found the rear of the store more interesting than the car park, and all the horrors contained therein, but Chuck couldn't see that.

Chuck's eyes were watering.

By lunch time, his nose was running. Constantly.

By the afternoon, the back of his throat was sore as well.

Despite all the evidence (used tissues overflowing from the bin, and all the staff staying ten feet from him), Chuck insisted that he didn't have a cold.

The coughing hurt his ribs, and his nose was red raw. But he didn't have a cold. He couldn't, it was summer. You don't get colds in summer.

-0-

Casey refused to let Chuck ride in the Vic with him (actually all Casey did was sneer at Chuck and say one word – 'diseased'), so Sarah took him home.

He felt miserable. And tired. And miserable. Sarah offered to stay, and check with Ellie, to make sure he was alright. Chuck laughed, and then coughed as a result.

"Don't make me laugh like that, it hurts ... I live with two doctors. Believe me, you have to have bits falling off before you get medical attention. And it's not a cold."

"Right, Chuck" was her doubtful reply.

He just wanted to get some sleep. In the end, Sarah gave up, and went back to her hotel, leaving Chuck to wallow. Ellie agreed - Chuck just needed rest, so Sarah left.

-0-

Casey checked the video feed around ten o'clock that night. Normally, if the moron was home, at this time of night, he'd just be getting started on some sort of computer game, and could keep going way past Casey's bed time. Not this time.

"Aw crap."

Chuck'd kicked the sheet off, and was curled into a naked ball. Casey could see the sheen of sweat on Chuck, and he was obviously shivering, and moaning.

If he went across the courtyard, how do you explain to a protective sister that you've just seen her naked brother shivering in a fever? Without looking like a stalker.

He called Walker, told her what was going on.

Sarah was on her way down in the lift a micro second after the words "Chuck" and "fever" left the earpiece of her phone. She didn't bother to change clothes.

-0-

Ellie looked at Sarah standing in the door way. It looked like she'd just gotten out of bed, and raced over here in that expensive, over-engineered German machine of hers. Probably broke the speed limit to get here.

"Sarah? What's ..."

"I was on the phone to Chuck, and he started sounding delirious" Sarah invented. The fear she showed looked honest, because it was.

"Let's go check." Not much scared Ellie, but Sarah seemed to get pretty intense about protecting Chuck. Devon tagged along as they trooped into Chuck's room.

"Chuck!" cried both Sarah and Ellie. "He's freezing" said Sarah after she cradled him.

"Body heat" declared Devon. Sarah nodded, and began stripping down to just a tiny pair of panties.

Being a cardio, Awesome had seen more than his fair share of breasts. But they were usually older, and flat on their backs, unconscious – and so flowing into the armpits. Some were even female.

The glimpse he caught (before rapidly volunteering to leave the room, and get a hot water bottle) made him doubt his belief that Ellie's were perfection.

Sarah wrapped herself around a cold, wet shivering Chuck while Ellie covered them both.

"Keep him warm, I'll be back later to check on him. Both of you, OK?" Ellie asked after the hot water bottle was in place at Chuck's back. She paused at the door to add "Thanks, Sarah"

"No problem." Sarah answered over her shoulder before returning her attention to Chuck. He was still curled, tucking his face and hands into her chest. "Chuck, honey? You need to straighten out a bit."

She managed to get one of his arms to drape over her, and he instinctively straightened his knees, as she held him closer. His breath shivered into her shoulder for a while, before Chuck slept while still shivering.

-0-

Chuck knew he was freezing. And boiling at the same time. "Freezling hot" he had once described it to his mother. That became a family expression. For a while.

And then something that felt wonderful and warm happened. He knew she would smell wonderful too, except for this stupid cold blocking his nose. Sarah was wearing a green bikini top as she sat opposite him in the life boat. There was no water, because they were floating in the Buy More. There was no floor either, all the display counters were impossibly long, stretching down into the darkened bottomless pit the life boat floated over.

Chuck missed the actual wedding ceremony. And somehow Sarah had removed her bikini top. Chuck knew that even though this was a dream, and he had never seen Sarah's breasts, this was what they looked like. When he looked up, Lester was staring at him from the floating nerd herd desk. Dressed as a priest.

Had Lester just married the two of them? How did Sarah get her bikini top back on? Why did Sarah look so bored?

"Charles, if this were a dream, don't you think it would end now?" asked the Lester priest.

The tableau stayed long enough for Chuck to doubt it was a dream. Chuck was confused. It was dark, Sarah was in his arms. What time, what day was it? God, he felt like recycled dog waste.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep, Chuck" Sarah whispered "Its alright, I'm here. You got sick after I dropped you off."

Chuck moved a little, and then froze. All he could feel from Sarah was bare skin. Um, and he, himself was naked.

"Casey saw you were feverish, and called me. I used my body heat to keep you warm. You were frozen when I got here" she held him tighter "You scared me, Chuck. I don't like it when you're sick like that." She whispered into his neck.

"Sarah, maybe we should put some clothes..."

"Leave it until morning. I'm tired"

"But..."

"Shhhh. Tired. Besides, its late Chuck."

"But..."

"Sleep."

Chuck did fall asleep. Eventually. Dreamlessly this time, to his later disappointment. Sarah, on the other hand, had a rather nice dream. There was no weird Lester priest in Sarah's dream. Or green bikini top. Or much clothing at all.

She held him tight during the good bits. When she sighed, Chuck would later swear it was like her golden hair was flowing out like an aurora.

-0-

"You gave me your cobd."

"It's not a..." her look silenced him.

"You are cobding in sick. I'll candcel the bission about the Lidyans."

"Sarah, we can still..."

"No bissions when sick. You can biss somethig imbortant. It slows you down. How many bad guy have we caught with Ross River Fever, hmmm?"

"All right."

Sarah's phone ran out of battery as she started her call, so she borrowed Chuck's. Being unsecure, she called Casey to pass on the cancelation.

"Put some clothes on. Both of you. The lenses into those cameras aren't free you know. All that pale skin of his, buggers up the light balance."

"Thangs Casey." She replied and hung up.

* * *

While the Libyan's couldn't listen into Chuck's phone, they had been able to identify some of the in and out calls. Chuck's phone hit their radar by accident – while on a stake out, he'd ordered take-out. Sizzling Shrimp the first time. Pizza the second time. It was later, when the Libyans reviewed the video and signal logs, they realised an unsecure phone was in the van that seemed to be observing them.

Using Chuck's phone, Sarah inadvertently triggered the Libyans into reacting. They realised that something was afoot. They made plans. Kill this agent.

Being as secret as Team Bartowski was, that meant they had to keep secret from the good guys as well as the baddies. Neither the CIA or the NSA were aware that the FBI were observing the Libyans. Or vice versa.

FBI agent Ian Walker (no relation) determined the cell number the Libyans were in a tizz about. Some civilian in the wrong place (twice) at the wrong time. He examined Chuck's life. College failure. Stuck in a dead end job. Lives with his sister. Recently found a girl. The girl was in a nothing job too. God help him, Ian Walker was supposed to protect slobs like these two.

He couldn't know that in order to protect Chuck, his records had been left as untouched as possible, in order to avoid any red flags being raised about why an ordinary civilian suddenly disappeared from government records, or was being watched by not one, but two (very) secretive government agencies.

Walker began drawing plans to save Bartowski and his girlfriend. Tentative agreement was begun for sticking them into the Witness Protection Plan. Hope he likes quiet country towns, because Buttphuque Idaho, here you come.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Deep Voiced Man) Previously in the SvFF 'verse;**

"_Chuck, what's this?"_

"_I'vebeenwritingfanfiction"_

"_Oh, God, Chuck. Tell you haven't… You idiot! What part of covert, secret under cover and covert did you not understand?"_

"_Um…. It was an accident…."_

_-o0o-_

_Sarah was on her way down in the lift a micro second after the words "Chuck" and "fever" left the earpiece of her phone. She didn't bother to change clothes._

* * *

I don't own Chuck, et al. I did have a summer cold, but I lost it somewhere.

The estate of the late John D. MacDonald might have something to do with the name of the town.

**The Summer Cold, Part the second**

"Chuck! Hi... I wasn't expecting y..." something was wrong. Badly wrong.

Sarah's heart was beating so hard, she feared it would break free from her chest. Chuck just stood there. His expression, if anything, was that of pity.

He said the words she feared most of all.

"What do you mean you're breaking up with me? Chuck, I'm you're handler. I need to be near you to protect you!" she was beyond angry.

"I'm so sorry Sarah. I've meet someone. Um, Sarah, this is Laura." He introduced the beautiful Asian girl. "The wedding is in three weeks. It would mean a lot to me it you could come"

"WHAT?"

Laura's hand threaded around Chuck's arm possessively. The huge diamond catching the light, with an almost supernatural aura. "We wanted to be married before the baby came." She happily told Sarah, before sharing a beaming 'special' smile with Chuck. The same smile he'd always saved for ...

"What? BABY? Are you….. Chuck! Did you….. have you…..How could you!" and something snapped inside her, and she was crying and pummelling his chest. In between sobs she wailed "But you knew. You had to know. How could you? How could you? Chuck, I lov…"

God, her heart hurt so much, she thought she'd been shot through it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't br…..

She was sitting up, gasping. The coughing fit wasn't helping with the 'not breathing' thing. There was a racing trip hammer in her chest. Confused, she assessed the situation.

It was dark. Where was the Orange Orange? How had it become night? She was in bed.

His bed. They'd both been sick. This was the ... (she had to think for a moment) second night.

Dream, it was a bad dream. Chuck was safely sprawled out in his tee shirt and boxers beside her. He hadn't cheated on her. Hadn't gotten engaged to some pretty ….. or gotten her preg ….. he hadn't cheated on her.

She threw herself onto his chest, hugging him.

"Hmmm, wazz a frr?" he managed as she woke him. He realised she was clinging tightly to him. "Sarah, what's going on?"

"Bad dream." She whispered.

Oh. She hadn't had one of those for a while. But they could be pretty bad "It's alright Sarah. It's just a dream. Can't hurt you." he was rubbing circles in her back "Nothing can hurt you, right? I mean, you're Sarah Walker." You could hear the proud grin in his voice.

She sat back up after a bit. "Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

She punched his side. Hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

She flopped back onto the pillow, her arms crossed. "That's for leaving me, and getting _her_ pregnant."

"…Preg ... Excuse me?"

"You cheated on me, and you left me for your new …"

"This was… in the dream, right?" he was a little nervous and confused, but he was pretty sure he hadn't gotten anyone pregnant. Pretty darn sure, actually.

"Hmmph" she rolled away from him, not happy where this line of logic was leading.

"Annnd, you're mad at me, because, in your dream, I…"

Silence.

_Oh, boy. What do I do now? She's mad at me for something I didn't do. Something I did in her dream, it wasn't even real… why do these things happen when I'm half asleep…. She's upset because she dreamt that I was leaving her… leaving her... _(just a minute)

_Leaving. Her._

_Leaving. _

_Her._

* Light bulb *

_Oh, my God! _

_She….. she….._

_Don't say it, don't even _think_ it, you'll jinx it._

_Oh my God!_

"Um, Sarah?"

She half rolled over, and looked at him. Didn't say anything, but didn't look at him with daggers either (which was important, because with Sarah, those daggers were real. And just a tad pointy).

"I'm sorry you dreamed… I didn't ... I'm sorry I cheated on you. It was just a dream, right?"

In the dark, it was hard to see if she nodded. He thought she did.

"You know that I'd never….. Sarah, you know that's not who I am. I couldn't …if this, I mean if we were ….. the woman I lov …"

"I know" she whispered, not admitting forgiveness, but not hating him either.

They both lay awake for some time.

-o0o-

The next morning, when he wandered into the kitchen, Sarah and Ellie looked up from their conversation. Chuck realised how uncomfortable the new silence suddenly was when he looked up after stealing a sip from Sarah's coffee. Both women were _glaring_ daggers at him.

"Oh, come on. It was a dream. It wasn't even _my_ dream. How come I'm the bad guy in this?"

Silence.

Daggers.

Chuck decided it was a lot safer back in his room. The two women glared angrily at his retreating back before each glancing sideways at the other. That was enough for the first snigger and then they both fell about laughing.

Ellie waited for Sarah to regain her composure before asking "Any plans for today? After you kill him, that is. Which is totally fine with me, by the way."

Sarah smiled into her coffee. "I thought I'd make him suffer. Just a little bit." She held her thumb and index finger a small distance apart.

Ellie shared the evil grin with her as they sipped their coffee.

-o0o-

Chuck rested the back of his head against the door. When he opened his eyes, he realised his day just got worse. He left the bedroom.

"Um, Sarah, Ellie? Um, don't freak out." Chuck returned to the kitchen. The look on his face reminded Sarah of Lester that time when he'd made a pass at her. She may have bounced on the counter and offered to 'devour him right here' in order to scare him.

"Chuck, what's wr..." the three men wearing government suits that followed Chuck gave Sarah pause.

Suits that made Casey's ensemble look like he'd been shopping at Armani.

The lead suit 'badged' the two women. "Ladies, I'm Special Agent Walker, FBI. I'm sorry to intrude, but this is for your own safety."

-o0o-

"So this is all just a misunderstanding?" ventured Ellie.

The three of them were now in a nondescript building the FBI used. The FBI Walker had explained that Chuck was now in danger from Libyan terrorists.

"Yes, but a very dangerous misunderstanding. His life is in danger. We need to protect him."

"Witness Protection?" clarified Ellie.

"What about my sister? My family?" demanded Chuck.

"You can't take Chuck away from..." Sarah looked really worried.

"I know this is a lot, and not something anyone expects. Witness Protection is safe, despite what you see on those TV cop shows. It should only be for a little while, until we can place the Libyans into custody and break up the cell. Two weeks, tops..."

"Two weeks!" the trio cried.

"...And, Mr Bartowski, your family will be safe. The terrorists don't have our resources. Drs Bartowski and Woodcomb are not in danger. The terrorist cell has no knowledge of them. Now we will provide a detail for them, but we are extremely confidant that the bad guys do not have anyone's details, aside from you, Mr Bartowski."

Chuck looked at Sarah, helplessly. Sarah was giving an extremely good imitation of someone who's just realised that maybe those dorsal fins swimming towards you _might _not belong to a dolphin pod.

"Miss Walker, you are included in the Protection Program. We need to keep Mr Bartowski safe. Couples keep each other calm. Calm people don't do anything rash. Can you do that? Keep him calm, and that way, keep him safe? Do you watch movies, TV? Can you be his handler?"

Chuck and Sarah shared a look, while Sarah was thinking furiously – how to get a message to Casey and Beckman? "What about our jobs? Friends?"

"Right now, nothing. No contact. You will be sent, today, to your protection detail. That's why we took your phones and all personal items. Your employers will be sent a sick leave application, followed by an annual leave form. It safest if you just – disappear. Doctor Bartowski," he focused on Ellie "it is vital, crucial that you keep this secret."

Agent Walker was calm, reasonably understanding, and ruthless. They would not be allowed contact with their previous lives until this was cleared up. The penalties were severe.

-o0o-

"So, Mrs Beasley. How was your day? Bet you didn't expect this when you punched me this morning?" Chuck asked Sarah.

They were in a hanger at LAX. The WitSec people had issued new identities, phones, bank accounts, luggage, a car, a residence and a whole plethora of minutia that Chuck had no idea you needed. Movies made it look so much easier – "here's your passport, your name is now Smith. Good luck."

"Chuck, how are you holding up? This has to be a bit of a shock for you."

"Well, you know, once upon a time, it would have been. But then, you see, this beautiful CIA agent asked me to trust her. And I'll tell you a secret, I do. With my life, and my family. I mean she turned it all upside-down, but..." he nudged her like she did to him on the beach once. She smiled.

"Sarah, can't you... I mean couldn't you have outranked the other Walker? Stopped this?"

"Chuck, you're so secret, ninety nine point nine to the twenty seventh place percent of the espionage community don't know about you. I have to protect that. You, Chuck. That means we have to play along. Well, for a little bit. Once we're set up, we'll contact the General, and advise. And she'll probably tell us the same thing. To protect you, we'll probably have to stay. Let the FBI look after the terrorists. Think of it as a holiday from ... as a holiday."

"Um, ninety nine point nine to the..."

"Twenty seven"

"Twenty seventh place? You been holding out on me, Mrs Beasley? Definite nerd tendencies there."

She just grinned at the floor before looking back up at him "Why 'Beasley'? I'm surprised they let you, us, choose any name."

"Well, that's Clair's name from our show. And the effects guy from Episode IV, the first Star Trek film, the sequel to Space Odyssey..."

"What was that about 'nerd tendencies'?"

"...and Independence Day" he concluded with a proud grin.

-o0o-

It was Iowa, not Idaho.

Rosedale Station – population 2800ish. Night life, nil. Claim to fame – twenty something years ago, they filmed the location shots of a Travis McGee film around the area.

They got there late in the day.

The Witsec people left them alone pretty quickly. "Budget cuts" they explained. They'd already given them contact details. The marshals looking after them were also looking after four other victim - um witnesses in a five county region.

Chuck and Sarah stood at the front door of the small house.

"OK, lets see how bad it is" declared Sarah, as she unlocked and opened the door.

"Hi, home, I'm honey" cried Chuck as he carried the luggage they'd been given. They looked around themselves.

"OK, I've stayed in worse."

"Hmm. Modern open plan living. Otherwise known as sparse."

"Two weeks, Chuck. We'll live."

Nothing in the kitchen, but an opened jar of instant coffee (no sugar). A DVD player, but no DVDs. The TV was flat screen, at least. A cosy two seat couch, two arm chairs rounded out the living room.

There was no game platform.

The spare bedroom was an office. The desktop was about five years old – XP. A large CRT monitor, and the keyboard and mouse were still on cables. The modem looked like it was a reasonable speed. Chuck booted up the system while they checked out the rest of the place.

There was toilet paper; that was a plus. Towels, linen and blankets, also a plus.

The bed was a double. And was the only flat place large enough for them to sleep on (unless you counted the floor). They shared a look but said nothing. In fact, Chuck noticed that Sarah had been pretty quiet since they started searching. He followed her lead.

Chuck checked the bedside table on what would normally be 'his' side of the bed. No Gideon, which he was half expecting, but there was a strip of supermarket condoms. He sighed and closed the draw. He supposed someone thought they were doing him a favour.

They retuned to check out the computer. Chuck delved in deep. Hunted around in the system, opening up folders and files with just letters and number for names. After half-an-hour Sarah got bored, and wandered the rest of the house.

When he was satisfied, Chuck found her, and suggested they see if someplace was open for dinner.

-o0o-

They walked up the main street, Chuck began "Bugged, but you knew that."

"I had my suspicions. Here's the thing. We're two civilians dropped into this. How would a civilian act? Try to contact Ellie? That way, they catch us, warn us not to do it again. And we look normal. Right? I saw bugs in most of the rooms. What'd you find?"

"That PC's got more worms than... let's just say, I'm surprised it still works. They'll know I switched it on, and was suspicious about the first routine, but I doubt they'll know more that that. I left everything in place."

"You sure, Chuck? If they've got keystroke..."

"Forget where I ... used to work already, Mrs Beasley? The things I saw in other people's computers would shock you. Any way, I can bypass that, and should be able to piggyback onto..."

"I knew I married a computer nerd for some reason."

"What? It wasn't my ability to accurately quote the whole 'supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic'... oof"

"Certainly wasn't that." She grinned. He rubbed his side.

"Sarah, what do we do?"

She looked back at him, where he'd stopped after his blatant impact on her elbow.

"What, dinner? There's a pizza..." she pointed.

"No. Us. The house. Ellie and Devon... Gener... Great Aunt Dianne. Everything."

She went back to him and took his hand. They found a bench seat nearby and sat.

"Chuck, I'm here, with you. Now, this is another layer to the... our cover. Until we can get word out, we stay as we've been. Besides, Casey will have footage of the Feebs in Ellie's kitchen. And I guarantee you, she's told Devon about it, so Casey will have further proof. Pity they took our watches, and my jewellery. We'll just sit tight, play a couple in love. Maintain the cover. We can do this. No big difference from normal, right? Casey will find a way to contact us. Even if he has to drive all the way out here in that tank of his." He smiled a little at her effort to help him.

"So, we don't know the bugs are there. We certainly don't turn them off, and we don't have the equipment to substitute a recorded feed. Yet. You're stuck with me, Mister Beasley." She hugged his arm "We just have to play house together. Come on, lets see what that pizza joint is like." She dragged him off the bench to the shop.

-o0o-

WitSec had provided clothing for them.

Someone had obviously seen Sarah, and thoughtfully provided a couple of night dresses. Very sheer, lacy and revealing ones. The woman who packed them, honestly thought she was doing both witnesses a favour. A bit of luxury, and romance, in what would be a difficult time.

Sarah chose a tee shirt to come to bed. It didn't matter. As far as Chuck was concerned, she could have worn a used plastic garbage bag, and still would have been the most desirable creature in the solar system. Besides, this time there were no baggy tee shirts to pick. Sarah made the cheep tee as sexy as the lacy night wear she had picked up, and decided 'not a good idea.'

Chuck's feet hung in the open space past the end of the bed. He did that in double beds.

He gazed at her when she came back in, and gulped (just a little), he thought he'd be used to her dressed in a tight tee like that. But, she continued to surprise him. She smiled, she appreciated his reaction. It was flattering. If only he wasn't such a nice guy.

She could see he was scared, anyone one would be. But Chuck (her Chuck) had surprising resilience. What she'd put him through during that last year proved that. The total trust he placed on her was daunting. And this time she was a little out of her league. Even deep cover, she'd have had contact, and back-up. Eventually they would, but for now, it was the uncertainty.

He could see she was scared. Sarah Walker didn't know what to do. That must be killing her. He wished he was stronger, not to put so much onto her. He held her shoulders, kissing the top of her head "We'll be OK. Tomorrow will be better."

She never meant for the kiss (just a regular cover-kiss, like countless ones before) to escalate like that. One moment, she lightly kissed his lips good night.

The next… they'd held each other tight, with such need. She'd just _melted_ against his body. His surprisingly muscular body, by the way. Her hands holding his face close, their mouths both hungrily devouring each other, and then delicately nibbling, lip pulling and then he was doing something absolutely incredible under the thin tee shirt with one of his hands… and the other was...Oh, dear God...

She realised (after blood flow slowly returned to her brain) that one of the desperately hungry moans was coming from her own traitorous throat.

"Um…." she untangled her leg from where it had found its way around behind Chuck all by itself. It took a deliberate effort to bring his hands back from where they'd headed without a conscious thought. They separated a little, panting.

"…wow…"

"Look….Chu…."

"Sorry…..I should…"

"…um…"

"...Sarah, we should... shouldn't... "

"...we can't..."

They almost lasted a full second. Their eyes never left each others during the moment that dragged for eternity.

And then they were back in each others arms.

You could call it kissing, in the same way you could describe a staving wolf as nibbling daintily at its food.

-o0o-

It transpired that Sarah had found the condoms too.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Chuck et al. I certainly don't own the four drunken morons mentioned below, but I did meet them once.

**(Deep Voiced Man)** Previously in the SvFF 'verse;

"_Charles, you _are_ the forbidden fruit…"_

_-o0o-_

_She realized that one of the needy moans was coming from her own traitorous throat. _

* * *

**The Summer Cold The Third.**

"Chuck!"

He gazed at her, he still had the silly grin.

"Come on Chuck, we need to do some shopping. I'm starving."

She may have had the same silly grin. "Come on, shower and out the door" as she swatted his bare behind.

She buried her face into the pillow after the shower started and groaned. Dear God, how many times had she slept beside him? Never knowing what it was she could have had. What they could have been _doing_….. last night had been… Wow.

Actually, two 'wow' squared. That second time had been …

And then she groaned again, with a different inflection. Dear Lord, she hadn't even lasted twelve hours alone with him, before they'd mixed 'chocolate and peanut butter' together. Casey, if he ever smiled or laughed, would have a field day. A little voice, that sounded suspiciously like Chuck's, pointed out – That would be after his face fell off from the unnatural expression.

And right now, that Chuck was naked and in the bathroom just nex…..

-o0o-

They left the house only after the hot water ran out, forcing them both to leave the shower. They giggled a lot as they walked up the street to the shops. Constantly touching each other.

"I ache, everywhere. Every muscle in my body hurts. I think my hair even hurts."

She grinned. Well, grinned even wider. "That's because we 'exercised' more than you're used to."

"Me? What about you? Why are you walking so stiffly?"

"Don't make me laugh like that. It hurts."

They used the WitSec money to buy food (and to replace the contents of the bed side table, with a healthy safety margin. Chuck grinned at the percentage of the margin), and headed back for breakfast.

The girl at the check-out gave them a bit of a funny look.

On the way back, they sobered up a bit. "We should try to contact Casey at least, to start with. Otherwise, who knows what they'll think." She was always the sensible one.

"Yeah, we could be off the grid. Doing who knows what to each other." He grinned at her

"That's for after lunch."

"After lunch?" his face fell.

"Well, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. New place and all" she gazed up at him shyly, before batting her eyelids. He held a straight face for all of three seconds, before the snort turned into full blown laughter, which hurt his still aching ribs. And hair.

"And we need to get caught contacting Ellie, too" she resolutely continued the 'sensible' route. Despite the aching torso she had. Or the driving urge to jump him the moment they got in the door.

-o0o-

After breakfast, Chuck wanted to have a crack at the computer, to see if he could rig a message to Casey.

Chuck 'liberated' sections from two different on-line instant message programs, and cobbled together something that should work at the other end.

"Honey, do you want to check out the TV guide for tonight?" piqued her curiosity. Ah, he'd got something on the screen, and was entering a brief description of the FBI situation, and the location. He'd skipped the part about them having tons of sex, which was probably a good thing.

"That looks OK."

Being bugged wasn't anything new, but this new situation made speaking aloud even more dangerous than just being in Chuck's bedroom.

Chuck's bedroom. How the hell was she going to survive being next to him, and not ravish him? It was bad enough before, but when they got back home? Maybe she could convince the General that Chuck needed 24 hour cover. Protection (and loving). After all, they'd been a 'couple' for a year now…. Could be a logical step….

Chuck clicked 'send.' "And now we wait."

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Nothing. Sarah realized that even the feds would get suspicious about anyone checking 'the TV guide' for ten minutes.

"Come on, we need to have a nap. Sleep. Later, OK?" she could have been referring to the computer when she said 'later' as she dragged him along by the hand.

It was during the nap, they missed Casey's reply. Because of Chuck's hacking, the reply part of the program was live. If you missed it, you missed it.

-o0o-

She woke up, her pillow (a warm and furry pillow) was breathing. She smiled. Stretching luxuriously. Her hand bumped something hard, and hot.

"Oh, God. Chuck! Put that away!"

"As you wish" he quoted, while rolling to cuddle her.

"Chuuuuuck….. mmmm …. No fair kissing like…..well, its not like we need to be….. Oh God, you're incorrigible"

Chuck continued the Young Frankenstein quote she'd begun. He was a nerd, even if he did have the most beautiful girlfriend on the planet.

-o0o-

The safest place for a conversation was outdoors. Chuck gave her an askance look when she suggested going for a wander. They hopped in the car (assumed it was bugged, and GPSed to the hilt, and so talked 'safely' while inside the 'four cylinder buzz-box' as she called it) and drove to the nearby lake the town boasted. They parked in the look-out lot, and went strolling.

"Chuck….." she began. This was going to be difficult.

"…..When we get back to civilization, this never happened. I know."

She gazed up at him for a moment, before hugging his arm tightly. Just because he wasn't a spy, didn't mean he wasn't smart

"… I wish…..I wish it was…." She snuffled into his sleeve.

"Different. Me too." He paused while he kissed the top of her head "What about you? Will you be OK when we get home?"

"Me? You, I'm worried about….."

"Sarah, I survived five years after … Stanford" he wanted to be delicate, and not mention her name. Or the other name for an entirely different reason (that same reason was walking hand-in-hand beside him) "OK, survived is a bit strong. But I got through. And then you turned up." He beamed at her.

"But, Chuck….."

"Sarah, I've been in love with you since we met."

Her heart missed a beat. His hand tightened on hers for a moment. He'd actually said it.

"So, for me, it'll be business as usual when we get back. I'll tag along behind you, like an imprinting experiment gone horribly wrong" he smiled to himself at the memory of The Far Side comic. Probably best not to explain that. Ruin the moment and all.

"So, no difference for me. I'll still be in love with you. OK, I might smile a little wider occasionally. Like when I see you." He smiled at her. "And no-one will notice any difference. But you…" She looked at him with a silent question "You have the hardest job. You have to go back to being ….." he couldn't say 'not in love' even though he was pretty sure that's what it was, even if she hadn't said it "…being Agent Walker." He finished lamely, but Sarah understood. She understood he'd given more thought about her than she had. Which was kind of a Chuck thing.

They walked the path in comfortable silence, still holding hands, for a bit. She pulled him to a stop, and looked at him seriously.

"You love me." It wasn't really a question.

"Can't help it." He smiled at her

She held the moment before blurting (before her nerve gave out) "I love you too, Chuck" and kissing him.

Chuck would later realize he'd missed the only opportunity he would ever have to reply with Han Solo's "I know."

He decided that was a good thing. Even if it wasted all those years of practice.

-o0o-

The woman's screams made Chuck think the worst. She was screaming a mantra of "Stop! No! Oh God, stop!"

Chuck bolted forward instantly. "Chuck, wait!" cried Sarah as she followed behind him. There came the sound of something whistling through the air, before it bounced a couple of times on the ground. The bounce sounded like it was a section of two-by-four timber. The woman had changed to a wordless wail of pain. There was also the sound of a large man sprinting away.

They rounded the bushes and ran into the lakeside campsite. There were four or five groups scattered around – tents, and two small camper vans.

The commotion was coming from the campfire between the old blue van and the tent with the tarp set up as an awning.

Chuck was relieved that the woman wailing seemed to be OK. His first thought was she was being raped, and honestly hadn't thought much past that. She was kneeling beside a scruffy man lying on his back. Another (also scruffy) man was trying to give the prone man CPR.

Which was a bit of overkill, seeing as Prone Guy was still smoking his cigarette, and was asking where his drink had gone to, or, could somebody possibly get him a fresh one?

It came out sounding something like "Has (oof) any(gnn)one see(gnn)n my b(huh)eer?..."

Sarah went to rescue the prone man from any further ministrations from his would be savior. Chuck noticed that the other campsites were set away from these two. Most people were pointing at the bushes off to Chuck's right. Two people were on their phones, hopefully to emergency services.

Chuck helped the prone man to sit up, once Sarah had calmed his friend down – "See? If he can still smoke, then he can breathe. That means he still has a pulse. Maybe you could find his beer for him?" – Chuck noticed the (formerly) prone man was covered in a small flurry of shallow cuts. His girlfriend threw herself onto him, still wailing.

It took a little time, but they got the story just before the Ambulance and Police turned up.

Prone Man and his girlfriend were from the tent-awning site. CPR Guy and the Running Man (current location, hiding in the bushes out of sight) were from the Mazda rust-bucket. CPR Guy and Running Man got into an argument – the source of the argument was not clear, and possibly never would be due to the alcohol induced haze that shrouded the inhabitants of the two combined camp-sites.

CPR Guy had waived his pocket knife – The Jury's attention is now drawn to Exhibit A – at his friend, Running Man. Prone Guy then stepped in between the two to break up the fight. Running Man used the distraction (and alcohol dulled reaction time) to take the knife from his camp buddy, CPR Guy.

And started slashing at Prone Guy standing in the middle. Prone Guy couldn't possibly have felt _anything_ in his current condition, but he must have noticed something, otherwise how else did he end up on the ground? Running Man ran off, and the two-by-four was thrown by CPR Guy. See? Simple.

CPR Guy was pretty keen to move the rusty van out of the area before the cops turned up. And seeing as how the starter was shot, maybe they could they give him a push? Sarah gently advised him that just like on the TV, cops didn't like things being moved before they'd had a chance to have a look around.

Chuck and Sarah were trying not to giggle when the Ambulance medics had strapped Prone Man to the gurney, about to load him and his girlfriend into the back, and had to explain gently to him that he would have to loose the cigarette before they could load him.

And the beer, too.

He took a last puff, and swig.

Chuck and Sarah assisted the police with their enquiries. CPR Guy assisted them so well, the cops decided to ask him back to the station and get him to tell them about it _all_ over again. And why was it he had such a large bag of 'potpourri' in the van?

The older cop introduced himself as McGee, and thanked Sarah for pointing out the van to them. Sergeant McGee told them the medics thought all Prone Guy needed was about forty two band-aids. And a night or three to sober up. In passing, he told them that the whole group were co-workers. They worked for the Des Moines Buy More.

Chuck and Sarah shared a look. Her eyes twinkled a bit when she said "That explains a lot."

He also asked if they were the 'current witness.'

"What do you mean?" asked Chuck before Sarah could shush him

"Small town. That place? Where you're staying? The whole town knows that's for the Jehovahs."

"Jehovahs?"

"Witnesses."

"Jehov… Oh dear…."

McGee smiled apologetically and continued "So, what was it? A juicy mafia hit? Uncover CIA secrets? A plot to assassinate the Pre…"

"He caught his boss embezzling." Offered Sarah looking proudly at Chuck. Chuck almost gave it away with his slightly goggle eyed reaction.

"Oh" said the sergeant, disappointed.

-o0o-

Sarah was a little disappointed with WitSec for sticking them in a (tiny, fly blown, dead end, inbred…. She was surprisingly inventive. Chuck wondered if Sarah knew more about small towns than she let on) place where every God-damned person knew they were God-damned…..

"Jehovahs" supplied Chuck, as they drove back to town.

She gave him the 'I'm going to drown you in a vat of CIA mango flavored yogurt' look.

"Shutting up now." He decided to let her vent for a little bit. Some of those looks were oddly specific.

-o0o-

Sarah's first thought, when the girl joined them at the table in the café, was 'prostitute.' Which would be a difficult profession in a town this sized. OK, so maybe she was a bit young for that…

And what was with this stupid 'pockets hanging below the bottom of the shorts' look? Anything in those pockets would bobble back-and-forth annoyingly.

"Hi, I'm Kym. Why so many condoms?"

As conversation starters go, that one rarely gets enough air time. Which is a shame, because as conversation starters go, that one is gold.

"Excuse me?" Sarah looked at the young woman. Chuck mopped up his lap with a paper napkin after a small whimper.

"I served you guys at the market, this morning. I'm Kym McGee, and you guys must be the new Jehovahs. You met my Dad out at the lake earlier. Don't worry, small towns, not much happens, and everyone knows everything about everyone. Dad said the paper work will take him all day. Don't get many stabbings. You guys are from LA, right? Was that a flat white? Two more flat whites please, Aunt Jane. She's not really an aunt, but that's what you call grownups when their friends of your parents, right?"

The CIA's most successful agent, her asset, and thus two thirds of the most successful multi agency task force ever assembled, gave the only possible answer.

"Huh?"

Along with somewhat stunned expressions.

"Don't bother trying to call your family back home. Any call from this county to your area code will be blocked. That includes cell phones. Oh, and don't try e-mail, either. Same thing. Try it. Actually you should, that would make you totally normal. Two days ago, my best friend Lauren tried to call her sister in LA, and the call was blocked. That's when we knew you were about to turn up, and where you're from."

Sarah didn't think her first answer came out right, so she gave it another go "Huh?" Nope, still not completely satisfied with that one either. Chuck was rubbing his eyes. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could feel a headache coming on.

Kym, the check-out-chick accepted her fourth coffee of the day, along with Chuck's replacement "Thanks. So, what I can't get is, you two got sent here together, so you're a couple. But that many condoms? And the way you two keep touching each other, it's like you've only _just _got together. Which doesn't make sense, because the way you were both talking earlier in the shop this morning, you were almost telepathic, the way you'd end each others sentences. You've obviously known each other for some time. Like that TV cop show about the writer and detective Heat… wait a minute. You guys are _just_ like Rook and Nikki. But you've only just got together. Oh, wow. Congratulations."

Chuck wasn't sure if the pause was long enough for her to take a breath.

"So, 'Beasley.' Did they let you choose that name? 'Cause that's the last name of Clair on my favorite show, Sam. Well, actually it's her cover name, but….. Did you know there's a website that lets you write fan fiction for the show? Not just Sam, lots of shows. But that's the main one I read."

Chuck was able to insert a response longer that one abbreviated syllable,

"Uh, yeah."

The silence as she sipped her coffee invited him to fill it "This is Sarah. My girlfriend, Sarah."

_That_ felt nice to say. And actually mean it. Then he grinned as he held out his hand "Hi. I'm Chuck. And I'm lost."

* * *

**A.N.** In 1989, I was a section commander (corporal) in my Army Reserve unit involved in an ADF exercise called Kangaroo 89 ('Skippy' to its friends). At that time, it was largest multi arm, multi nation military movement Australia had staged since our involvement during Vietnam. The scene with the four alcoholic morons happened pretty much as I describe it above. Except I don't think they worked at Buy More. Buy More has higher expectations. Because this was in 1989, there were no mobile phones. We had to use the platoon radio to contact battalion, and get someone to go across to a payphone (remember them?) and call the civil police and ambulance. It took some convincing as this was a situation no-one ever thought could happen. The cops and ambos turned up. Running Man surrendered about an hour later.

The local cops were pretty friendly to us after that, and used their spotlight to show us all the salt water crocodiles in the dam (where they supposedly couldn't get to, and there were an awful lot of them). That was the side of the dam where we had been sleeping. We moved bivouac shortly afterwards. After about fifteen seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own Chuck et al.

Also I am not responsible for Jameson Rook and Nikki Heat referred to in the previous chapter. ABC have published 'Heat Wave' and 'Naked Heat' both by "Richard Castle." Yes, real, physical books (although, a lot slimmer than other Castle books that appear on the show). So the names I used were from those books.

If Sam and Clair (Clam? Ew) can have a show and fan fiction, then I'm sure the same can be said for Rook and Nikki (Rikki? Meh). Thanks to MyNameIsJeffNImLost for those (and other) smooshed names.

* * *

**(Deep Voiced Man)** Previously in the SvFF 'verse;

"_Well, I was there with Morgan, you know? I'll need that time to wash the alcohol out of my…."_

"_Who said anything about alcohol? I'm thinking whipped cream…" she intimated in her most sensual moment to date._

_Chuck kind of zoned out for a moment. When he came to, she was giving him a quizzical smile. God, she loved it when he was trying to process…._

"_You can't just _do_ that, woman! Give me some sort of warning before…."_

_She smiled again, and stepped right up close to him. She whispered into his ear "Chuck? Serves you right for getting me in trouble with the General." _

* * *

**The Summer Cold goes Forth.**

-o0o-

**Day 17 of WitSec**

**(Late Afternoon – LAX) **

"Chuck!"

He looked over his shoulder back at Sarah while he was running. Sarah's face registered horror, and that was when he ran into a (very) solid object.

"Ooof"

"Um, look out? Chuck, are you alright? Casey, what's wrong? Why did you stop?" she helped Chuck back up.

It would go on record as the quietest, and most reverend grunt ever uttered by the large NSA agent.

"Casey? What are you doing? Wazi Akrim's getting away."

Casey's wistful and very quiet "yeah, but…." was associated with a half gesture to the shop he'd skidded to a halt in-front of. Before Chuck had piled into him without any noticeable reaction from big guy.

The shop was full of everything Reagan. The face of the 40th president was everywhere. Mugs, fridge magnets, mouse pads, calendars….. if you could squeeze an image onto it, it was on sale there.

And Casey was just outside of it. The perfect shrine to the perfect…

The other two yanked him out of his reverie, and along with them. It was only because he was John Casey that Chuck didn't think of the noise he made as a whimper.

"John? Retail therapy later. Bad guy" Sarah pointed to where Akrim had headed.

-o0o-

The news footage of three undercover agents capturing an unidentified terrorist on one of the most active runways in the world, and as a consequence, shutting _down_ one of the busiest airports in the world, made it into high rotation on a plethora of TV stations.

Worldwide.

Fortunately, the grainy cell phone footage wasn't good enough to identify them. All you could see was a big guy, and what one news presenter described as "a tall blonde, possibly she – male" with a ponytail pointing guns at the man lying on his face in the middle of the runway. The tall thin guy seemed to be catching his breath. Or throwing up. They're the same pose.

Beckman had a kitten. And from the way she debriefed them, the kitten probably emerged backwards, struggling all the way, and rather disgruntled with the whole process.

Her debrief felt like it lasted longer than the whole 'grind-LAX-to-a-screeching-halt-for-six-hours' incident before she finally ordered Chuck and Sarah "back to Hicksville so the FBI can tell you they've done their job."

**(Three days previously) **

**Day 14, Part I **

There was an army Humvee parked across the street. Casey, dressed in his NSA goon suit, got out and waited (not very) patiently. Sarah did the 'Shh' finger to her lips.

"Coffee?" she asked loudly. And they walked up the street to the little café. Casey sat down just after they did.

"Having fun playing house out here in the weeds?" he asked. You could see he desperately wanted to involve the words 'peanut butter' into the conversation somehow. It was a struggle, and Chuck wasn't certain how long Casey could last.

"What's the word, Casey?"

"You're staying. Both of you. We can't blow this. Keeping cover, even the Feebs' cover is more important" he somehow made that last word an insult "than the Libyans."

The coffee came, so they paused while sorting out who got what.

"The problem is, the Feebs stomping around has driven the two leaders, Wazi Akrim and Ahdsay Hizakrim underground. Chuck, we need to … we need you."

"Ooh, that looked like it hurt, Casey." Chuck didn't gloat, very often.

"Chuuuuck…." warned Sarah.

Casey gave him the 'they'll never discover your charred and dismembered corpse' glare.

It is surprisingly similar to his 'I strongly suspect that the pair of you have been dancing the horizontal mambo for the last two weeks' look. But there is a difference.

"We need to get the pair of you out of …. _here_….. for a few hours." Casey made small town America sound as if a small cave that he knew of in Afghanistan was preferable real estate "So we can bring down the cell."

"OK, bit of prob there, John." Chuck lived dangerously. Sarah nudged his ankle "Our little house on the prairie is bugged. Not as good a job as you'd have done, but…."

*Grunt*

Chuck thought there was a little bit of pride hidden in that grunt.

**(Ten days prior)**

**Day 4**

"….I'm sorry. This is delicious. When did _you_ learn to cook?"

Chuck managed the rare feat of looking both indignant, and smug at the same time.

"Well, may I remind you that I live with two doctors. Who, by the way, live stranger hours than certain yogurt shop employees. So I've had to fend for myself for, oh at least three times now. I can even load clothes into the washing machine…"

"I doubt that very much, Chuck. Unless you think that the washing machine is actually the carpet in the corner" said Sarah around a mouthful of glazed chicken.

"Were they the ones under, or over your little pile?" he grinned. "Anyway, compared to my sister, I'm just ….."

(A lady like gulping sound) "…. Oh, no. this is good." She had her eyes closed as she said it. She needed to minimize sensory input, to concentrate.

"Thanks, Ellie thinks I dry the meat out too much."

-o0o-

After they washed up the minor disaster zone that the kitchen resembled, they adjourned to the couch. She tucked her legs under, and leant up against Chuck. He was beginning to suspect that she was part cat. Totally relaxed, yet able to leap fourteen feet in a nanosecond. Also remarkably ….. flexible. A comparison to a tigress was not totally inappropriate.

"Anything from the computer?" she asked after a comfortable few minutes.

"Nothing. I'm beginning to think I need to do surgery."

Not they weren't enjoying the current hiatus. Quite the opposite to be honest. But unless they could show they'd tried all means of communication, some very hairy questions would rear their ugly heads. Questions in the forty nine sequence.

The girl, Kym, they'd met two days ago had informed them, in a caffeine fueled, migraine inducing barrage of information, that if they tried to drive more than twenty miles from the safe house, the GPS would kill the ignition. There was no chance of driving to buy replacement parts for the computer. And the credit card purchases would also raise some questions too.

She hesitated, but this seemed to be the best option. "How about Kym? She might help us."

"OK, we'll check with her tomorrow."

**Day 5**

"So you want me to go undercover? A secret mission?"

"Nothing that….." Sarah began.

"Absolutely" Chuck interrupted. He deliberately didn't look at Sarah, so he didn't know which flavor of yogurt death was on offer today. "Very dangerous. You'll be helping us to ….. OK, look. Nothing like that. We just want to get a message out. Let my sister know we're OK. Nothing further that that. The Windows paper weight in that place is so hacked, if you sneeze near the keyboard, I'm sure they marshals would call us up to say bless you."

"Can they trace it to me? I want to help, but if I get in trouble…."

"Chuck's very good with computers. That's how we came to be here. His boss, Big Mike never knew how Chuck found out about his little 'fishing expeditions.'"

-o0o-

They'd had to back and forth a little. Kym loaned them her spare thumb drive. Back to Casa Beasley to copy Chuck's hacked IM program. Then back to the McGee residence to try Kym's laptop.

Chuck was still being cautious, while the gen pop's e-mails would probably go uninhibited, that didn't mean an unusual address wouldn't light up the 'Hi there, we have something interesting' lights.

Sarah had said "Chuck…."

"Yeah, I know"

"I swear, it's like you two have teleprosy or something. You spoke about three words, and an entire conversation just passed between you two."

Chuck and Sarah glanced at each other before looking at Kym.

"There! You just did it again."

**Day 6**

"This is just like a movie. Clandestine meetings and drops at the coffee shop, acting as your cut-out…." Kym leant over her flat white.

"The dickfer flies low in rain" grinned Chuck. Sarah growled at the two of them.

Yesterday, they'd been able to get in contact with Casey. They explained to Kym it might be safer to use their neighbor to contact Ellie.

Casey was given Kym's phone number. He had to make first contact, so the 'something interesting lights' wouldn't block her call to LA.

Kym continued "So, John said he told your sister everything was OK. From the way he described it, I think your sister is very happy you two are safe. He also said your aunt Dianne wanted you to behave, and listen to the FBI."

"Oh, do us a favor? Don't mention the ….. the condoms….." Chuck trailed off.

Kym looked quizzically at the pair.

Sarah tried "It's just that… it's complicated."

-o0o-

"….I'm sorry. This is delicious. When did _you_ learn to cook?"

Sarah grinned "Well….. If my soufflé hadn't mysteriously, tragically and spontaneously caught _fire_" she paused to try and look significantly at him "you might have found out I do know one end of a spatula from the other."

"…..oooooogooood…. cant talk…eating….." he moaned with his eyes closed in something approaching ecstasy. He was so far gone, he even allowed the "Spatula City, where we sell spatulas. And that's all." routine to pass unspoken.

"If I wasn't already married to you, Mrs Beasley, I'd ask you to marry me." He eventually was able to admit.

"So, you liked it?" she asked, smiling and getting up.

"I loved it. Almost as much as you" he started getting up, to join her, but she held him back into the seat with her hands on his shoulder, before straddling his lap.

"Dessert?" she asked saucily

He was a little bewildered, until her hands began un-tucking his shirt while she kissed him.

"Oh, right. _Dessert_…"

"Oops" she broke off the hungry kiss and climbed off him.

"Huh? Sarah? What's….."

"Forgot something" as she raced away.

His eyebrows shot into his hairline when he saw the pressurized can she was holding when she came back from the fridge.

She leaned against the door frame to the bedroom, and shot a squirt of the whipped cream into her cleavage. After a moment, she raised her eyes and asked "coming?" with what could only be described as a cheeky grin. The way she wiped the excess from the nozzle with one finger, and then licked said finger may have helped Chuck's decision.

He'd pick that chair up in the morning.

**Day 7**

"Happy one week anniversary, Mrs Beasley….."

"Happy…. "

The rest of the conversation was very non-verbal.

Except for the twice daily phone calls from the marshals, checking up.

**Day 8 (Late evening)**

They watched TV for a bit. Not much on, so Chuck channel surfed.

"Stop, go back. One more. Yeah." She sat up straight.

"….that looks like Jackie …. How old is this? …..And _excuse_ me Miss Walker, but how do _you_ know Jackie Chan?"

The film was pretty old judging by the color degradation. Bad acting, and dubbed with what sounded like Australian voices. You have to love a bad dub over bad dialogue.

"Who? No, it's the fight. These guys are good."

"Yeah, no wire work or CGI in those days. And you _gotta_ love a backwards jump into a tree."

"I'm serious, the fighting is… I mean it's a no contact spar, but the skills….and this has all been in one take so far…."

"Good. Yeah that's because he's Jackie. If our 'evening of Morgan' had gone to plan, you would have also seen him in…" Chuck imitated the bad dub "…Enter The Dragon…." His lips kept moving after he finished "in a very minor role."

They ended up staying up half an hour longer than they intended, mesmerized by a film older than they were. It certainly wasn't due to the acting, or witty dialogue.

**Day 9**

This day marked the real beginning of their life long relationship. She loved him more than she'd ever thought was possible. Even more than Jane Austin could make her feel. But there was still some reserve. Sarah trusted Chuck with her life, and knew she had done for some time since she'd first met him.

Today Sarah was finally comfortable with Chuck. She didn't even know she'd reached that watershed, until the moment occurred. She realized how much Chuck had saved, and changed her.

On this day, fifteen months since they'd first met, nine days since they first made love and eight days since they'd both verbally declared that love, Sarah was so comfortable being with Chuck, that she did something in front of him that she had never before done in the presence of another living human being.

She farted.

Sadly, Chuck didn't quite realize the gravity of the occasion.

"!….Oh my God! No more Chinese sausage for you."

**Day 10**

"What's the story with that LA neighbor of yours?" asked Kym.

"Well….." Sarah tried to begin.

"He acts so big and gruff. But he's really a sweet teddy bear."

"Sugar Bear" blurted Chuck who then looked horrified at himself "Never call him that, by the way." His neck still hurt on cold mornings.

"He really cares for you two, you know."

"Casey? Big guy, gun fetish. Hates communism. Sure this is the same guy?"

"Maybe be grew a goatee" offered Chuck. When the two girls looked baffled, he expanded "Star Trek, evil mirror twin. Except with Casey that would….."

**Day 11**

Marshal Davies put his headphones down in something approaching awe. "That pair in Rosedale. I do believe we've got a new record. It's like they'd never had sex with each other before this." He felt he needed a drink. Or a shower.

Or both, except that would dilute his drink too much.

He wondered if they'd be so ….. active if they knew they had an audience.

They'd certainly be fine for a bit. He'd let Benet look after them. 'Cause that pair weren't going anywhere in a hurry.

**Day 14 (Part II)**

Kym let them know that morning that Casey would visit. "Is that wise?"

"I'm sure he'll be subtle." Replied Sarah

They lasted a few seconds before the guffaw.

-o0o-

Casey opened his bag of tricks. Chuck sighed "Oh, I missed you guys" as he caressed the high tech tools.

Sarah managed not to look hurt. Casey decided that maybe, just maybe the pair of them hadn't been….. because no man should fondle computer gear like that. It wasn't normal.

Chuck hacked the phones they'd been given. Set the onboard GPS locators to give a mixture of trace signals based on the past few days. They would need to keep the actual phones for when the marshals checked in.

Casey flew them back to LA in the Hercules he'd borrowed. Chuck reviewed the data that Casey had, along with the FBI reports. The FBI didn't know anybody else had seen them yet. Chuck flashed three times, but not on anything that would help them find Akrim and Hizakrim.

They snuck into the warehouse the Libyans had been using, but the FBI had been through, removing anything useful. But it was because they went to the warehouse, that the trio were able to locate Akrim and Hizakrim.

The free wi-fi at the nearby McDonalds had activity that matched the Libyans, ceasing when they realized they'd been made. Chuck was able to locate the same laptop once he knew the ID.

They were running out of time. The Beasley's had to be back in the safe house before midnight. Chuck was able determine the current burn phone one of them was using while they were on the Herc back to Iowa.

-o0o-

Chuck was able to keep a couple of toys when they were dropped off. The clean laptop and internet dongle were the first things he used once they were back in Casa Beasley.

"OK, ready to mess with the FBI and the Federal Marshals, Mrs Beasley?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm about to make sure that a certain John Casey never finds out how we've been…. How we chose to enjoy our whipped cream… "

"Probably a very good idea." She responded with a wry smile. It was too late now, and the shop would be closed. "So you're deleting our recordings?"

"Not quite, since the recording is still actually recording, I've sneakily re-named the file. Now it's saving in an unknown format, under a file name that cannot be found. Anybody opens _our_ file up, all they'll get is two Thai girls, speaking in dialect that seems consist primarily of glottal stops, they were here last year, to testify against a sex slave ring." He shrugged modestly at his own brilliance.

"Did I mention, I knew I married a computer nerd for some reason?"

He smiled, but after a moment it became a sad smile. "This is almost over, isn't it?"

"And we'll make the most of the time we have. Once we get back…"

"I know"

She hesitated, then added "And I think its time _you_ spent some of your week-ends at my place, Mr Bartowski. How come I have to spend mine at your place?"

He held her close "Deal." He was able to say before her lips found something better for them to be doing.

**Day 15**

Kym passed on a message that Casey said the FBI had advised one of the bad guys had been caught. The last one got away.

Chuck spent some time trying to track the last guy, Akrim. It didn't go well, Akrim wasn't using his phone. Chuck was going in circles. It was annoying him. Vexing. He was vexed.

In an effort to ease Chuck's frustration, Sarah dragged him to the shops in order to get him out of the house, and for some groceries, including two tins of whipped cream. One of them got used on apple pie that night.

OK, the remains of the last one.

"I'm never going to be able to look at apple pie with a straight face. Ever. Again."

**Day 16**

The pair of them went over all the information again, and again. In the past, when ever they'd had to share a computer screen, there'd been that _frisson_ of being so close that they'd both enjoyed without ever admitting it. Now it had been replaced with a comfortable intimacy. Chuck guessed that the frisson would return once they had to do this under Casey's watchful glare. Because there was no way they could sit with her in his lap or with his arms around her like this when they got back.

They'd probably have to wear clothes, too.

**Day 17 (Mid morning)**

"Chuck! Did you just flash?"

"…uh yeah. Call Casey, we found him! You were right, the warehouse was the key."

Credit card purchases in the area of the warehouse had been a bust, because the Libyans had access to very good fake cards. The card manufacturer was in the intersect. Chuck was able to find the sequence of numbers used, and followed up purchases with a few of those cards. Aside from highlighting a number of criminal gangs that would keep the Feebs busy for a while, Chuck had found Wazi Akrim.

-o0o-

By the afternoon, Akrim had left his current safe house when Team B had got there, but they had his number now. They tracked a cab ride to LAX, and a ticket sale for a flight out of the country.

Sarah spotted him in the crowd at the food court.

**Day 19**

It took the FBI until this morning to advise Chuck and Sarah that they were now safe. The FBI had successfully apprehended the terrorist cell. Chuck and Sarah were appreciative, and thanked them for looking after them.

"Bloody cheek! I do all the heavy lifting. We, well you and Casey actually capture them, and he takes the credit!"

"Welcome to the glamorous world of interdepartmental cooperation, Chuck."

They found and thanked Kym for all her help. Hugged and exchanged numbers and addresses.

The two Marshals, Davies and Benet drove them back to Des Moines for their flight home. Chuck and Sarah thanked them too.

Ellie's squeal of joy when she saw the two of them come in the door was joined in by two local dogs and a coyote. Mrs Hendersen from number eight's West Highland Terrier, Wee Jock, winced at the sound. Mrs Hendersen couldn't figure out why he did that, but she was a little hard of hearing.

Ellie had been cooking since she'd been given the news that it was over. "…and your favorite for dessert. Apple pie. Sarah? Can you help me whip the cream when you get settled in?"

She was curious why those two found that hilarious.

**Day 20 (Early morning, Casa Bartowski)**

Chuck loved the little wisps of loose hair that lived on the back or her neck. Little islands of oh-so-desirable chaos on her slim neck that made her even sexier, somehow. That meant there was a real girl in there somewhere.

He grinned. A girl that loved him. No, not a girl, but a woman. The one astounding, amazing woman who loved him…..

He rolled onto his back. Back home. His bed (very nearly _their_ bed, except for…..), his computer, the Tron and Dune posters and the Les Paul were all as they should be.

She realized he was awake, and rolled over to gaze into his eyes. Neither of them said anything. They didn't need to.

Best. Fortnight. Ever.

Chuck sighed.

Oh well. Back to the real world…

* * *

**A.N. **Sadly, cannot claim ownership for 'Wazi Akrim,' 'Ahdsay Hizakrim' or 'M'dona Kaant-Singh.'

A very funny man called "The 12th Man" is to blame for them (and a bunch of others) – every summer for close to twenty years he took the piss out of the TV cricket broadcast, and sport in general.

Youtube him, but be safe and send the kids out of the room first.

Also any nuns, your mother and yourself. Just to be safe.

You have been warned.

(And have been given a source of bad guy names)

-o0o-

Retropanda37 told me about the Reagan display in a shop. You guys are weird, you know that, right? I cannot imagine a business surviving with Bob Hawke or John Howard's image on anything…..

So, which came first? The Casey, or the shop? Even scarier thought, does that mean there are enough Casey's out there to keep a business like that successful?

-o0o-

The Jackie Chan film was Snake in the Eagle's Shadow from 1979.

My wife and I caught it on TV by accident, and couldn't stop watching it.

-o0o-

If you are familiar with Lap Cheong, you will know it is probably very unhealthy, utterly delicious, and devastates the ozone layer about an hour later.

* * *

**Epilogue – Breakfast, Casa Bartowski**

"Chuckster, check it out. That could almost be you and Sarah there on the runway" boomed Devon as he pointed to the news highlights replaying on the TV.

"….Yeah, you caught us Devon. Sarah and I have been working as CIA operatives, and the whole Buy More/Orange thing is just a cover job. Whaaaaat?" he asked in the same tone of voice as the Big Bad Wolf from Shrek. Sarah, leaping from 'death by yogurt' straight to 'death by some sort of throwing implement,' _glared_ at him. "Oh, that's right, Devon, it's a secret. You can't tell anybody."

"Are you nuts?" she hissed. Her fingernails digging into bare flesh on his thigh.

"Wait for it…." He winced back.

"Yeah, Chuck. You and Sarah, in the CIA. Good one." Devon's trademark smile beamed at them.


End file.
